Amy's Death
by XWingAce
Summary: I wrote this after reading Stand By Me 1&2. It continues the story. Character killoff, but she has lived a long, full life.


AMY'S DEATH

By XwingAce

  


  


DISCLAIMER: I don't own Joe, Amy or Methos (nor Mac, Richie or Amanda). I've just used them here for my own entertainment (and yours) All I'm getting out of this is a little fun, certainly no money.The idea of an Immortal Joe Dawson is JoLayne's, as are all other persons mentioned by name in this story   


I'd like to thank Jo not only for letting me continue the storyline, but also for her betareading of this story and making some sense out of my sentences.   


Constructive criticism is welcome at [xwingace@fanfix.zzn.com][1]. If all you want to do is praise this story into the heavens or grind it into the dust, write a review.

  


NOTE: Takes place years after the story, "Stand By Me 2: Artificial Immortality" by JoLayne, archived on fanfiction.net and also on her web site: www.geocities.com/enyajo

  


~~~~~   


She lay in the hospital bed, a frail old woman of 92 years. So old. To him, she still looked like she did when they had met for the first time--almost three quarters of a century ago. Then she was an independent, smart-mouthed but sweet and handsome young woman. She had walked up to him and said: "I'm your daughter."

  


He'd been surprised and confused, but he'd accepted it and had been happy. It wasn't as if it was impossible for him to have kids, he'd just thought he'd never gotten round to it. When it turned out that he had, he loved the result and regretted the years he'd missed with her. He'd done everything in the later years to make up for it, for as long as it was possible.    


After his heart attack and subsequent stay in a rather suspect nursing home--where he'd been a lab rat in research aimed at making mortals Immortal--Amy's persistence set him free with the help of Mac and Methos. His freedom had only intensified his efforts to be with her, to support her. But, after a few years he had to retreat more and more. He had to keep out of sight of the Watchers in general and those that knew him in particular, unless they noticed something. Noticed that he hadn't aged.   


He'd died in cleaning up the mess that had come out of the discovery of Clarissa Barrymore's experiments. To everybody's surprise--not in the least his--he had come back to life again. Amy had been unconscious at the time, almost mortally wounded by a bullet like the one that had killed him. Only because Methos performed CPR and Arthur Pangent called 911, she survived.    


He hadn't realised fully what his reviving meant at the time; his only thoughts were of her survival. Only after he knew that she was going to live and he could think again did the full impact hit him. Thank whatever deity there might be for friends at such a time.Mac and Pangent kept in touch; Methos had pulled one of his disappearing tricks again. He'd decided then that it was better if Amy didn't know his true circumstance in life. He had never after told her what exactly had happened. 

  


To prevent her finding out, he had to keep a distance from her; someone who should be nearing eighty couldn't look as if he was in his mid fifties. People would get suspicious. No one could know the truth that he was Immortal. Any Immortal who found out about him would think him an easy target. Mac had taught him how to use a sword, but someone without his own legs would almost certainly be on the losing side of a duel. More importantly, the Watchers would **not** look kindly on another Immortal in their ranks, with possibly permanently lethal consequences if they found out. It tore his heart out, but he had to let her go. She couldn't be a physical part of his life; he could only retain her memory in his mind. Distance or no, he'd tried to keep tabs on where she was and how she was doing. In that endeavour, he had been generally successful. When he heard that she was dying he had to be there. He had bluffed his way into her room by posing as her son, not without feeling some of the irony in that. 

  


Now, he sat by her side, held her hand, waited for her to wake up, maybe for the last time. He needed to look in her eyes and say goodbye. She was hooked up to all kinds of apparatus. She looked not unlike Gerald Nedemeier had as he laid beside Joe in the clinic. It must have been the way he looked at that time too. Nothing untoward was going on now, just nature running it's course. The hospital was run by the Watchers and had been checked out by Methos himself. After the Barrymore incident, the Watchers had completely given up on any medical research. Amy was safe.

  


"Dawson, what are you doing here? Do you even know what risks you're taking?"

  


The voice sounded haughty, British and arrogant. Dawson turned around and looked at the speaker.The man was dressed in a tailored dark blue suit, had a long coat over his left arm and held a hat in his left hand. His blonde hair had been cut short. His stance was military, even regal, with his cold grey eyes staring down an impressive nose at Joe. 

  


That nose. That nose had earned its owner the nickname Falco when he had been sold as a slave after his capture by Caesar after the siege of Massilia. A hundred years later, at the height of the Roman Empire, it had given him the cognomen Catonianus, because of his resemblance to Cato, Caesar's nemesis, who had also had such a beak for a nose. A nose that would even now infallibly identify its owner no matter how much the rest of his features were changed. An Immortal could dye his hair, wear contact lenses, change his accent, his style of clothing, but physical features were almost impossible to hide, especially that nose. Methos' nose. Fortunately for him, up until recently there had been no pictures of him, because hiding would have been impossible.

  


"I'm taking risks? What about you? Your face is better known here than mine. I'm just the 'son' of one of the patients. **Adam. **They don't know about me, they do know about you. Even with that new outfit, unless you get a nose job, you won't fool them for long."   


The old Immortal's stance broke down as he smiled. When he spoke again, most of the arrogance and a lot of the accent was gone. He still looked different, but this was the Methos that Joe knew.

  


"It's Noah now. Noah Ryerson. The last of the Watchers who have seen me in life is lying in that bed, about to die. I erased my picture from the Watcher Archive as soon as I could get into it. I also deleted the Adam Pierson/Methos link, and made sure not to leave any unaltered copies. Methos is a myth again; Adam Pierson is dead. Poor sod was beheaded by an unknown Immortal."

  


"An unknown Immortal? Who filed that report?"

"Adam's Watcher did. Noah Ryerson."

  


"No way. You did it **again**? You managed to get yourself assigned to looking for yourself again?"

  


"Hiding in plain sight is still the best way not to be found. Despite your sneer at my nose, not many people actually noticed that it's remarkably similar to Adam Pierson's. Deleting his picture might have had something to do with that, of course."   


"So why are you here? Just checking up on whether the last mortal to recognise you is really dying? Or do you actually have business with Amy over anything Watcher related?"

  


"There's no need to insult me, Joe, or to get angry. I liked Amy. She was a good friend. When I heard she that was dying, alone, I thought the least I could do was check up on her and keep her company. Now that her 'son' is here it isn't necessary, so I'll be leaving. Nice seeing you again."

  


"If there's no need for insult, then don't be insulted. Amy can use all the company she can get. **I** can use all the company I can get. Stay, please." 

  


The older immortal pulled up a chair and sat down on the other side of Amy's bed. As he sat down, Amy woke up and turned to look at him. "Adam? What are you doing here?" She coughed. "I thought you'd fallen of the world again."   


Methos seemed genuinely surprised that she recognised him, but managed a reply. "Well, I had to check on my favourite Watcher. How did you recognise me?"

  


The old woman breathed, trembling, almost like a sigh. "Oh, can't miss the nose."

  


Joe almost chuckled as Methos groaned. "See?" He told the other man.

  


Amy turned towards the new sound. When she saw who the previously unnoticed speaker was, her pupils widened and she started mumbling to herself. "No, no, it can't be. I must be seeing things. Must be getting demented at my old age. This is impossible. This can't be. Father?"   


Joe patted her hand as the information seeped into her mind. It was cruel to reveal his own true nature while she was on her deathbed. Not seeing her for one last time would have emotionally killed **him.** "There is nothing wrong with your mind, honey. It is me."

  


"But this is impossible. You can't be here, not like this."

  


"I'm sitting here, aren't I?"

  


"But, you can't be Immortal. Immortals can't have kids or everything in my life has been a lie."

  


Methos interrupted. "It hasn't been. As far as I can find out, Joe really is your father. I **know** that Immortals can't have kids. I tried often enough." He looked up at Joe. "If anybody's life has been a lie, it's been his for the past sixty years or so."

  


"Really nice, old man. Blame me."

  


"I have every right to blame you. You made your decision against my advice. You left her."

  


"Don't get me started about living lies, **Adam**. But we're losing the subject here."

  


Amy had sunk back in her pillows. If possible, she looked even older and sicker than she had before. But there was nothing wrong with her mind or her memory. "Barrymore. The experiments worked?" She asked. 

  


Joe nodded. "Perfectly," said Methos "She even managed to make herself a full Immortal before I caught up with her. She didn't last very long, though. She wasn't too adept with a sword."

  


"But the experiments hadn't gone that far on either me or Gerald." Joe continued. "You know what happened when Pangent cut me in the lab, so I thought nothing had happened to me. When you were shot when we went to check up on 'Martina Barry', I did die. Then I came back."

  


"Without the Immortal sensation." Methos decided to interject. "So in those experiments, there was some sort of transition state where you're no longer mortal, but not yet fully Immortal either. Apparently we got Joe and Gerald out just before they could reach that transition state."

  


"Gerald too?" Amy asked.

  


"Probably, but he's disappeared. The Watcher database lists him as dead. I haven't seen him in sixty years. It's very likely that he's running around somewhere, pretty much like I've been doing. Hiding from Watchers **and** Immortals." 

  


"You're not hiding. You're here."   


Joe snorted. "Yeah, and as soon as they realise that you don't have a son and show my picture around here to see if anyone recognises me, I'm going to be in a lot of trouble." He softened, looked down on his daughter. "But I couldn't let you die without seeing you again. I just couldn't. Forgive me?"

  


"Forgive you for what?"   


"For not telling you earlier. For letting you hang out there, without so much as a word for all those years. For not being the father I could have been."   


  


The old woman sank back even deeper into the pillows. She was visibly getting weaker now. "Why didn't you tell me?"

  


"I was afraid. Confused. I figured it was safer for me if no one knew. The only ones who did know were Mac, Methos and Pangent. I couldn't tell you, Watchers might have found out. Not even Richie or Amanda knew."   


Amy managed a weak smile. "They're in for a big surprise when they run into you sometime."

  


"Amy, you shouldn't talk so much anymore. Save your strength," Methos said, seeing how weak she had become. 

  


Amy almost laughed out loud. "And who made you the doctor here?" Weak, she sunk back into the pillows.

  


"Hippocrates," came his serious reply. "I mean it Amy. You're sapping your strength."

  


Amy laid down, exhausted. "I'm dying anyway. Those few extra minutes won't do anymore good."

  


A sound that had been on the background suddenly registered in Joe's ears. It was the beeping of the heart-rate monitor. It seemed to slow.

  


"Father." The sudden whisper from Amy was almost impossible to hear. Joe leaned in close. "I forgive you."   


The beeping changed into a steady tone. Methos jumped up and pressed the button to summon a doctor. The doctor came, but all he could do was pronounce the time of death. Joe sat there, unmoving. Even after the doctor had left. Finally, he felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up.

  


"It's life Joe. It hurts, but moving on is the only way to keep breathing. Come on, I'll buy you a beer."

  


Joe really didn't feel like it, but he knew that a joke was called for. "It's about time you started doing that. You have such a long back tab I'd never have to worry about money again if you paid it."

  


Methos laughed. "Fat chance. You don't own the bar anymore, remember?"

  


"Yeah, but that doesn't mean that you don't owe me." Joe stood, and picked up the cane he didn't really need anymore, but that hid a surprise if someone decided that an old, crippled man alone was an easy target. 

  


Methos looked at the cane as they walked out the door. "Couldn't do without one?"   


"Not really. Let's say I'll never need a long coat. Lets get that beer."

  


THE END

   [1]: mailto:xwingace@fanfix.zzn.com



End file.
